Summer of Wings
by skydivided
Summary: Takes place between Dark Lord of Derkholm and Year of the Griffin. Kit is longing for a vacation from Scales. Blade is longing for Kit to stop whining. Elda is hoping to use her magic. Don is desperate to get to the other continent, Lydda wants exercise, Callette just wants to work on her invention. Oh, and all of them want to make it through the summer without being killed.


Kit was seething. "Just as well that he's left, isn't it? If I'm just a useless cat-bird, might as well not bother teaching me anymore!" He growled, the tip of his tail stirring up small eddies in the dust on the floor of the barn. Blade did his best to look sympathetic, but it was a tricky thing. Scales, well, Deucalion but he was Scales _really_, he hadn't left because Kit hadn't been able to work out how to call up his magefire. Kit would have known that, if he had thought about it, would have recalled that it had been four or five months now since Scales had last left for a hunt, and that the old dragon was probably hungry. Derk had kindly extended use of the Friendly Cows to Scales as a form of repayment for the education he was giving his sons, but Scales hadn't availed himself of the opportunity this whole time.

"Not good to keep your food in pens. Keeps you soft. You'll get out of shape that way, cat-bird. You don't see that sister of yours eating livestock." He growled (naturally meaning Lydda, Scales adored Lydda), when Blade had dared to ask Scales about it. This had made Kit scowl at Blade, as if it were _his_ fault that Scales had managed to turn the question into another lecture directed at him. Blade sighed, watching Kit preen irritably. He was growing to understand Scales these days, to catch the glimmerings of a wise and compassionate king that the dragon liked to cloak in crotchety behavior. Kit needed further convincing, however.

Blade recalled the day he had realized the truth about why Scales never ate the Friendly Cows, the day they'd gotten loose from their pasture and ambled down into Scales' valley. Kit, Don, Lydda and Blade had all been sent to round them up, Don groaning all the way about how they'd get there to find a year's worth of meat down the dragon's gullet already. But when they got there, Scales was not feasting, but rather watching closely as a newborn calf tried to stand. There was the usual joyful rush from the cows as they noticed the griffins, which Blade managed to avoid to stand near Scales, watching quietly as the dragon gazed distantly at the calf. It was a wretched, bedraggled little thing, born at least a month too early, but as Blade watched, its coat grew out, its cries for milk became more boisterous, and at last, it clambered to its feet, walking unsteadily over to find its mother. Blade glanced up at Scales, and could have sworn the dragon _winked_ at him, before roaring,

"This is my valley, and I won't have it covered with dung, little human, cat-birds! Put them back where they belong!" Kit and Don hopped to herding at once, and Lydda joined them after craning her neck to smile sweetly at Scales. As Blade forced the stragglers up the hill (which wasn't really that hard, they tended to follow you, after all) he thought on the dragon. Scales had proven himself time and time again to be just as much of a good person as he or Pretty or any of the griffins, a better sort of being than most, really, but try telling Kit that.

Now Kit was pacing, before turning suddenly to jab his great buff beak accusingly at Blade. "You know, if you weren't a human, you wouldn't have it so easy. It's not my fault there's no magic books written for griffins." He griped. Blade sighed.

"I told you, Kit, it's not that. I'm no better at magic than you are-"

"Tell me about it!" Kit grumbled.

"-But," Blade persevered, "It's not the books. We almost never use books anyway. He sees you differently than me, that's all."

"What do you mean?" Kit said, sinking to his haunches again at last. Blade ran his hand through his hair.

"Look at you. You're half the size of him already."

"Am not." Kit responded instantly. "Barely a third-" It was Blade's turn to cut him off.

"You know what I mean. You're bigger than anything else around here. And your magic is stronger too." Derk had explained that, how a mix of different creatures, different races, different _ideas_ often produced more powerful results when it came to magic. Magic, it seemed, did not appreciate being constrained. "He understands what could happen, if you lost, you know..." Blade trailed off, realizing that he was on another touchy subject already.

"If I lost what, Blade?" Kit's voice was dangerous. Blade bit his lip for a moment, thinking of how many times Scales had yelled the word he was about to say.

"Control." He mumbled, barely able to avoid imitating the dragon's tone himself. Kit's crest rose further, nearly drooping onto his beak.

"I am sick and _tired_ of that _idiot_ telling me to control myself!" He squawked. "'You're not at peace, cat-bird! You'll never understand your magic until you understand yourself, cat-bird! Look into your being, and become one with the puking universe, cat-bird!'" He screeched. "I am controlled!" Blade chanced the raise of an eyebrow. Kit's feathers were in disarray again after all that preening, tiny bolts of electricity crackling over his body as the griffin's frustration manifested itself through his magic. Kit looked down at his chest feathers, groaned in humiliation, and just as suddenly as he had begun to rage, plopped down to the ground. His feathers settled slowly, his hackles relaxed. "Tell me again, how you called up your magefire the first time." He begged. Blade sighed, and sat down on Kit's overstuffed bed. They'd gone over this a hundred times, but for the love of his brother, he'd run through it again.

"I reached into myself, like he said. I found who I am as a person, in here..." he tapped his heard, where he could feel it even now, his 'essence of Blade-ness,' and from his hand sprung forth the silvery flame. "I've told you before, Kit, you're trying too hard. You're a great wizard already. You can do spells I can't begin to just can't throw yourself at this with all your strength. It's not that kind of thing." He said, concentrating hard and allowing the flame to rise from his hand and become a perfect silver orb in the air.

A brainy pigeon, who had been cowering in the rafters this whole time, leaned forward to coo in admiration. Kit groaned.

"That's just it, Blade. You can understand yourself as a person. So can Mom and Dad and Querida and even that stupid Sukey, now that she's lived here long enough. But how do I learn to understand myself as a griffin? Dad won't even hear of me going to the other continent until Scales says I'm ready, and it's been two years, I can do everything else, but he'll never say I'm ready until I can do this!" He said miserably, burying his head under his great talons.

"Look." Blade sighed, toying with a goose feather working its way out of Kit's bed. "Think of it this way. You'll never get it by flying at it full speed like you have been doing. But Scales is gone for a week. This is the first vacation we've had in months. Why don't you just... relax, and try not to think about it?" He offered. "Come on, Elda's been yammering at me to take her camping for weeks, and Lydda is desperate for something that gets her out of the house while Fran is playing nanny to Flo. Don could do with a bit of outdoors, too, all that posing for Shona's art students is going to his head." The corners of Kit's beak twitched.

"That doesn't sound so bad. I've barely flown a mile this past week. Might be nice to stretch my wings some. And show that grumpy old maniac who doesn't need to live off livestock." He said, groaned, and then got to his feet. Nudging the door open with a wing, he stepped outside into the summer evening. The heat of the day had finally dispersed, and Derk's multicolored fireflies were rising from the lawn that needed tending, flickering with a thousand different shades. A moment or two later, Kit groaned. "Blast. You've forgotten Callette, Blade." Blade chuckled quietly.

"Callette? Camping? Not unless we bring a mirror so that she can admire herself. She's working on some project, anyway, one of her electric bits-" He was interrupted for the second time that day, this time by a yelp. Callette leapt over a nearby hedge, cursing violently under her breath. It was amazing how a griffin as big as Callette could creep up on you, but she managed, especially at this time of night, when the grays and browns and creams of her coat blended into shadows and leaves and trees so easily. For a moment, Blade thought that Callette's fury was directed at him, for his jab abut her vanity, but he saw the cause of her trouble soon enough. Filbert was charging after her with maniacal glee, giggling and fluttering through the air and craning his neck to chomp at Callette's tail. Callette swooped up with a great clap of her wings, but Filbert, in jerky, sparrowlike motions, darted after her. Blade tried very hard not to chuckle, and put a slowing spell on the winged colt. Kit snorted quietly, but helped Blade wrangle him back down to the ground with his magic. Filbert's eyes grew very wide when he noticed Kit at last and he tucked his head down, looking dolefully up at the huge griffin once he was on solid ground.

"Why in Anscher's name would Dad breed a colt that could fly any sooner than Pretty did? That little terror has teeth! I think my tail may be bleeding, and he nearly got a hold of my pinfeather!" Callette growled, settling down when she saw that Filbert was well and truly grounded. "And he knows I'm too scared to hurt him when he's flying. Well. Maybe I just won't be so scared anymore. The next time he does that, I'll just swat him out of the air and let the two of you clean up the mess." She said, stretching her neck out so she was looming over the colt. "Understand, brat?" Filbert, trembling, mumbled something. "What was that?" Callette barked.

"Yes, 'lette." Filbert stammered. Only Blade noticed the mischievous look in the colt's eye when he dared to look up.

"Now go on back. I'm sure your grandmother is worried sick about you." Kit told him, with a bit of a swagger in his voice. Nothing with wings dared to cross Kit these days, nobody but a certain dragon, anyway. Filbert nodded, then fluttered off, veering off course occasionally to chase a firefly. Callette watched him go, and when she was quite sure he was gone, swiveled her head back towards Blade. Fixing an unnerving yellow stare on him, she said,

"Now what were you saying about me?" Blade cleared his throat.

"Just that we didn't think you'd like to go camping with weekend."

"Camping?" Callette tilted her head to the side. "Outside? In the middle of nowhere? Nothing around, nothing to do?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd like the sound," Blade began, but Callette surprised him by butting her beak against his chest, which was as affectionate as Callette ever got.

"You have no idea what I would do to just have some peace and quiet and work on my invention." She said, sounding much less tetchy. "Can we leave at once?" Blade chuckled, as Kit looked mildly alarmed. It was strange to see Callette in such a good mood.

"Well, it's too dark now, and besides, I need to tell Don and Lydda and Elda still. But tomorrow morning. Mom and Dad won't mind. They've been saying that we barely see each other these days. Pity Shona won't be able to make it."

"Well, ask her anyway, she'll be hurt if we all go off without her and Geoff." Callette said. Blade nodded. Callette understood Shona better than he ever would.

"I'd better get going, then. Kit, can you round up the others and tell Mom?" Kit nodded, still looking thoroughly unnerved at how pleasant Callette was being. "Callette, remember to pack everything you need for your invention in one of the hampers, okay, I don't want to be going back and forth all day tomorrow and I already know Elda will forget something." Blade said, and then disappeared, translocating as only he could to find his older sister.


End file.
